Coming Home
by Talking to Bananas
Summary: After being trapped on the island for four long years, the survivors of the flight 815 crash have finally been rescued. But can things go back to the way they were before?
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

Author's Notes/ Disclaimer: #Disclaimer# I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Lost". They were created by JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and they belong to them, Touchstone, and ABC.

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Reporters gathered around the airport terminal that the plane would be arriving into in just a few minutes. Anxious family members of the survivors of the flight 815 crash stood in front of the yellow caution tape, praying that their loved ones had made it. Ever since a small personal airplane pilot had spotted the wreckage of the Oceanic Airline Jet after four years of searching for it, every minute of their time had been spent fretting about the fate of their relatives. Silence fell over the room as the plane arrived at the runway in Sydney. People held their breath as it slowly taxied into the gate.

Meanwhile, on the plane, the forty-eight survivors of the crash sat in their seats, many of them looking relieved that the flight was over. Sitting in the first row was Hugo Reyes. Pulling his headphones off of his ears, he unbuckled the seatbelt that held in his girth. He sighed, knowing what was ahead of him. Reporters, stock brokers, his money. He had made the decision a long time ago on the island that he couldn't keep it any more. It was a part of his past.

Sitting next to him was Charlie Pace. He was smiling from ear to ear and holding onto his guitar possessively. It was all going to be okay. He was off the bloody island, he wasn't addicted to heroin anymore, and he had written over twenty new songs. He turned to look at Claire Littleton, who was sitting next to him, and whose hand was in his.

Claire looked back at him, and then turned to look at her now four year old son Aaron who was in the seat beside her. Unbuckling his seatbelt, she bit her lip; worried about how he would adjust to the world he had never known. She remembered how he had reacted to rescue helicopters and people from civilization; she herself had cried. Now, she was worried about how he would feel around cars and buses and all of the cameras that she knew would be around. Then, she realized that she might not know what to do in face of missing out on four years of life in the world.

A bit further back in the plane, Kate sat, idly holding her small coveted airplane. Even after all this time, she couldn't let go. He had meant so much to her, he had been the only man that she had ever loved. But the experience on the island had changed her; she knew that she couldn't hold on for much longer. Looking around at everyone's excited face, she sighed. She knew that all that lay ahead of her was prison.

She and Sawyer had been seated in the same row, a police officer in between them. Sawyer tilted his head to the police officer, "This really isn't necessary." The cop just laughed. Sawyer grimaced and leaned back, talking to Kate he said, "Guess we're in the same situation freckles."

Kate frowned, "Another 16 hour flight back to L. A. with you…Why'd you have to get deported anyway?"

"It's not like I wanted to sweetheart." Kate fell into silence and Sawyer shook his head. Sitting behind them and listening to their exchange was Jack, he sat in stony silence. He had never thought that they would get off the island. The past week of being airlifted off of it, taken in secret to a small airstrip on an island near there, and then finally being boarded onto this plane had been surreal. He couldn't believe that he was going back to his life; it still all seemed so unreal, so different. Somehow, he felt an odd sense of closure as he pulled his bag out of the overhead compartment.

Farther behind him were Michael and Walt. Michael leaned his head back on his seat, glad that the flight was over. He turned to Walt, who was staring straight ahead at the seatback in front of him, "Hey little buddy, you okay? Do you want your Game Boy?"

"I'm fine Dad." The fourteen year old boy answered vaguely. He was going back. Walt couldn't connect with who he had been before the flight had crashed. It was just so long ago. He had been a different person then. Memories of the island flooded through his mind. Playing backgammon, hunting with Locke, when he was kidnapped. He still hadn't talked to anyone about what had happened when he was taken. Walt knew that his father resented that, but the time wasn't right.

Next to Walt was John Locke. As the plane stopped, he pushed himself up nervously. As he did, he thanked God that he could still stand. His legs had been holding up surprisingly well since they had been rescued off of the island, but every day since then, he had been worrying whether things would go back to how they had been before the island. He couldn't go back to being in a wheelchair. Not after four years.

Sitting in the row behind Locke was Shannon Rutherford. She brushed her hair out of her eyes as she stood up, ready to get off of the plane. Though she knew she would have to, Shannon never wanted to see a plane again. The task that faced her when she got off of the plane daunted her. She had to tell her step-mom that her only son had survived the plane crash, but had died just a few weeks later on the island. She moved to take her and Boone's bags from the overhead compartment and found that Sayid had already taken them out.

Sayid accepted her thankful look and stood in the isle. He couldn't believe that they had made it off. In the end it didn't really matter what he had done with technology to try to help, but he was just glad that they were off. The only thing that he would miss was his alone time with Shannon. He felt sad that they would just go their separate ways, but he still knew that he needed closure with Nadia and he would go to the ends of the world to get it. It was just something he needed to do.

In the third to last row of the plane sat the Korean couple Jin and Sun. Sun began pulling her bag out from under the seat and Jin asked in perfect English, "Do you need some help?"

Sun nodded and he helped her pull it out. In the four years that they were on the island, Sun had taught Jin English and they had worked out most of their relationship problems. But Jin knew now that it wouldn't be that simple. They were going back to the real world. Back to the world where she was going to leave him, where he had almost killed a man, and a world where Sun's father ruled over every move that he made.

So, each stuck in there own minds, they stepped out gate into the bright lights of the airport and the new chapters in each of their lives.


	2. Chapter 2: Aftermath

The lights of the cameras flashed as the disheveled survivors stepped out of the gate. In the first few moments everything seemed to just stop where it was. Families stood on tiptoe to see if their loved one had made it. Tears streamed down their cheeks out of sadness and relief.

The first to move was Hurley. He ran out of the crowd of the survivors and ran straight to his mom. She gave him as big a hug as she could with all of Hurley's weight bearing down on her. He stepped back and said, "I'm sorry I missed your birthday Mom."

This broke the ice for the other survivors to start heading towards their families. Shannon stepped out towards her stepmother, afraid of what was about to happen. Uncomfortably dragging both her and Boone's bags, she walked up to Boone's mother. After an awkward one-armed hug, she heard the question that she knew was coming, "Where's Boone?"

Shannon's eyes searched the ground. Though she had been preparing for this moment for almost four years, she couldn't find the words to tell her that Boone was gone. Ms. Carlyle put her hands on Shannon's shoulders, "Shannon, what happened?"

Shannon looked into her tearing eyes, "He made it through the crash," tears formed in her eyes, "But he was trying to send out a distress signal and he fell off of a cliff. He died a hero." As his mother leaned on her shoulder and let out sob after racking sob, she knew that that didn't help. It hadn't helped her. Shannon patted her step-mother's head and let herself cry too. Coming home wasn't supposed to be this hard.

Next to Shannon, Charlie and some of his very excited band mates were having a reunion. Charlie beamed at a very excited Liam and said, "I'm back."

Liam pulled him into a brotherly hug and replied, "Yes you are brother."

Patrick, the drummer of the band, grinned at Charlie and cried, "You're not the only one who's back." From in his coat pocket, he pulled a brand new Driveshaft CD.

Charlie gave him a questioning look, "You put out a new CD?" Liam nodded brightly, and Charlie let himself be escorted in a stony silence out of the airport.

Claire watched Charlie reuniting with his band mates; he hadn't even said goodbye. She hoped that was because he was planning to see her again. They had formed a very strong relationship on the island, and he and Aaron got along so well. As all of the other survivors embraced their loved ones and found each other, she stood alone outside the door of the gateway alone. She looked around, searching for a familiar face.

Then, she saw him: the psychic. He was standing amidst the crowd of reporters and staring straight at her. Her gaze matched his and neither faltered. She began walking towards him in a daze, not noticing everything that was going on around her. Only when she had crossed the room and was standing in front of him, that she broke out of her trance. Reporters crammed around her, pestering her with questions, "Ms. Littleton, how does it feel to be back in the real world? What about your child, how is he adjusting?"

She waved her hand like she was swatting off flies and leaned in so only the psychic could hear her, "I want some answers." He nodded knowingly and motioned for her to come with him. She followed with Aaron in tow, ready for what she had been waiting for years to learn.

As she walked off, the reporters pressed foreword. At the same time, Mr. Paik, Sun's father did also. He walked up to Sun and took her by the arm and said in Korean, "We're going home."

Sun looked at him defiantly, and said in English, "No." He looked at her inquisitively and she repeated herself in Korean. Jin walked up behind them, dragging his bags. He glared angrily at Sun's father.

Putting his hand protectively on her shoulder, he looked at her, "What's going on?"

"He wants me to come with him. I don't want to go. I don't want to have anything to do with him. Not anymore." Sun's father watched them talk, looking completely left out of the conversation.

Jin nodded and turned to her father, forcing himself to talk in Korean, a language he hadn't talked in for over three years, he told him, "We're not coming with you."

Sun's father replied, "Yes you are… She's my daughter."

"And my wife." Jin answered angrily.

Sun's father began pulling her by the arm, as he did, she shouted, "Let me go!"

Mr. Paik sneered, "After all I've done for you. You owe me…"

"I don't owe you anything! I wouldn't even have been on that plane if it weren't for you!" Sun interrupted. She wrenched her hand free from his and ran down the hallway. She stopped about halfway when Jin caught up to her, tears in her eyes she said, "Today was supposed to be happy."

Back at the gate, another pair were meeting up, "John…You're walking! How?"

"It's a long story Helen. I'll tell you in time."

She embraced him, "John, I thought I lost you."

"You'll never lose me Helen." Locke whispered in her ear.

Tears brimmed on her eyelids and she wiped them away, "I felt so bad when I heard about the crash. To think that I hung up on you right before you left."

He helped her wipe her tears away, and said, "I'm here now." He put his arm around her and walked away from the gate, amazed by his surroundings. Watching him walk off was Jack Shepard. He pulled his eyes away from his line of sight, and looked around at the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Then he saw his mother he walked up to her.

She hugged him awkwardly and whispered, "It's so great to see you. Jack, I don't say it that often, but I love you and I'm proud of you." He looked at her and fought back tears; he hadn't realized it, but he had missed his home when he was on the island. Now he was back, he didn't have to worry about the water, about people fighting, about being the leader. It was all about his life, his career.

Thinking about his career, he remembered why he was on the plane. He opened his mouth to explain it to his mom, but she interrupted, "I know about you father. We set the funeral for next week…If that's not too soon for you."

Jack thought back to his hallucinations on the island, "No. I've been waiting for four years to do this."

She nodded, "Let's go then."

Jack stopped, "Hold on for a moment." He ran back to where Kate was standing. They stood there for a minute, neither of them doing anything. Then, Jack hugged Kate. She tried to hug him back, but the handcuffs restricted her. He let go and said, "You take care, alright. I'll see you later." He turned to Sawyer, "Goodbye, Sawyer." Then, he turned away, not able to bear seeing her in the handcuffs. He rejoined his mom and left the terminal, not listening to her questions about Kate.

As they were leaving, three well dressed people pushed past them, heading towards Sayid. He saw them coming and stood there waiting. When they got up to him he asked, "What is it?"

The woman who had originally told him about Nadia gave him a faux sympathetic look, "Well, you know you were on the island for a long time."

"What's your point?" he asked curtly.

The woman sighed, "It's Nadia. About two and a half years after the crash, she was in a car accident. I'm sorry to tell you…she didn't make it."

Sayid crumpled the picture of her that he had been holding and stuffed it back into his pocket. The group of three people walked off, leaving him standing there in shock. How could she have died? It wasn't possible. It seemed like just yesterday that he was going to see her, but he knew it wasn't. He knew that being on the island was going to change his life, but the true repercussions of being stranded were just coming into light.

He was broken out of his trance by Shannon. She walked up to him; she looked like she had been crying. They had said goodbye before the plane took off, but he knew it wasn't enough. He had grown to love her on the island and he hoped that she loved him; if only he had the courage to tell her. She hugged him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, "Look me up when you get to L. A. okay?"

He embraced her back, "You can count on it." Shannon walked off and Sayid followed. They broke apart when Sayid stopped at an Oceanic Airlines counter to book a flight back to L.A.

Walt and Michael had hung back in the crowd, looking around at the airport. Michael breathed in deeply, taking in the smells and sounds of civilization. From the fluorescent lights on the ceiling to the Starbucks cups that the reporters were holding, he was absolutely delighted to be back. The last time he had been in this airport, he had been angry and confused.

Now, he looked at Walt, who had grown to be almost as tall as him, and wondered how he could have ever not wanted the boy. Since the plane crash, Michael had come to realize just how special Walt was. He wondered if Walt knew it. So, he put his hand on Walt's shoulder and led him out of the gate protectively, heading back to the life he knew he belonged to.

After everyone cleared out, the only two people left at the gate were Kate and Sawyer. Kate stood there, watching everyone leave, Jack's touch still lingering on her. She stared after everybody, not wanting to believe that it was really all over. It was only when she heard Sawyer calling, "Hey Freckle's c'mon," that she began walking. While the police officer that had been assigned to them kept his hand on their shoulders, she walked away from the past four years and into the future; for better or for worse.


	3. Chapter 3: You Have No Idea

**AN: I'm going to do each Chapter from here on out in Characters. Here's my Charlie Chapter. Could you review and tell me if you like this style.**

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Charlie sat in Liam's comfortably furnished house sipping at his first cup of coffee in four years. He looked around at all of the news stories about his disappearance and posters of Driveshaft that were hung on the walls, marveling at what had happened in his absence. Staring bitterly at the Driveshaft CD in his hand, he thought about all of the songs that he had written on the island.

He tossed the CD on the table as Liam walked back into his living room. He smiled as he sat next to his brother, "I still can't believe that your back, man. Now, everything's perfect. We've got you back. We've got Driveshaft back."

Charlie put his coffee down and shifted towards Liam, "Yeah. About that Liam…"

"What about it?"

Charlie bit his lip, "Well, you put out an album. Without me."

Liam gave him a defensive look, "It was two years after you disappeared. We needed to move on."

Charlie gave him a questioning look, "But you said that you didn't even want to release an album before…before I left."

Liam frowned, "You know how it is. Band sales always spike when a member dies."

"BUT I'M NOT DEAD LIAM!" Charlie screamed, jumping off the couch and rushing out of the living room, slamming the door behind him. He stalked outside, his dark, cold mood contrasting with the bright sun outside Liam's house. After walking a couple blocks through the affluent neighborhood, he stopped to catch his breath.

Pacing back and forth, he gritted his teeth in anger at what his brother had done to him. How could he have done this? After everything Charlie had done for the band he couldn't believe that they would just a put out a record without him. Resentment fumed through his entire body and he was blinded by rage.

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away, and spun around to see Liam, who had followed him from the house. "What do you want Liam?"

He sighed, "Look brother. I knew that you would want the band to continue…and since it didn't look like you were coming back..."

Charlie gave him a bitter look and grumbled, "Ever heard of having faith?"

Liam took Charlie by the shoulders, "Charlie. I always had faith. Do you know how hard it was here without you? We were all devastated. Have you listened to our CD?" Charlie shook his head, and he continued, "It's all about you. Losing you. The loss of a band member is the worst thing that can happen to someone. But even worse than that is losing a brother."

Charlie hugged him, "Thanks."

A few hours later after the sun had sunk below the horizon, Charlie and Liam sat in a bar, each of them nursing a beer as Charlie finished recounting most of the events on the island. Even though Liam was his brother, there were certain things that he couldn't tell even him. The events of the island still plagued him until this day.

They finished their beers and Liam stared at Charlie, amazed by all that had happened at the island, not knowing that he was only getting half of the story. He couldn't believe all that his brother had gone through, how much he had grown. The thought of Charlie having to kick drugs on and island, having to take care of a baby, and worrying about a monster attacking people made him realize how mature his brother had gotten.

They stood up and left money for the tab. As they walked outside, they strained their eyes to see their way in the dark streets of Sydney. When Charlie began walking down the street, Liam grabbed his arm, "I know a shortcut."

He pulled Charlie into a side alley that led towards the street he lived on, making sure to keep Charlie close to him protectively. He didn't want to lose his brother again. Suddenly, he felt something on his back. He realized it was the barrel of a gun. A gruff voice shouted from behind them, "Empty your pockets and turn around slowly."

Liam pulled what little money he had out of his pockets and turned around to see a masked robber standing with a gun pointed at him. He handed the robber the money and looked at Charlie who was still searching his pockets. The robber looked at him too, "What about you pretty boy?"

Charlie stared straight into the robber's cold green eyes and said sarcastically, "I'm sorry. I didn't really plan on getting mugged today."

The robber moved quickly, pinning Charlie to the wall and sticking the gun underneath his chin. He turned to Liam, "You move and he gets it!" Liam took his breath in gasps; he couldn't let this happen to his brother. He gathered his muscles and prepared to lunge at the robber, but before he could, something he didn't expect happened.

Charlie had pulled his arm out and pushed the robber off of him, grabbing the gun in the process. They struggled for the gun for a tense moment and finally Charlie ripped it out of his hand. Then, he stood there; holding the gun like an expert, he had the same crazed look in his eye that he had when he shot Ethan.

For a second, the robber looked afraid. Then, he stood up straighter, "You wouldn't shoot me."

"You have no idea." Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowed into a menacing scowl. Liam looked at him, wondering who this new person was. It couldn't be his little brother. The hatred that was flowing through Charlie was evident in his rigid stature and livid eyes. Sweat rolled down his brow, as his head turned toward Liam's, "Call the police."

Liam stood there, looking surprised at being spoken too. Charlie raised his eyebrows, "Liam. Call the police." Liam did and they arrived within two minutes. Only when they had handcuffed the robber and escorted him to the cop car, did Charlie drop the gun into the head officer's hand. As they left Charlie and Liam standing in the alley, Charlie turned to a still stunned Liam and said reluctantly, "I think I have some more things to tell you."


	4. Chapter 4: Answers

Claire Littleton sat in the psychic's large house, a cup of tea in her hand. Her hand shook slightly as she set it down on the same table that she had sat at four years earlier, before she took that fateful flight on Oceanic. Sitting across from her was Richard Malkin, the psychic who had sent her on that journey of a lifetime.

Now, it was her turn. She wanted answers and she wasn't leaving until she got them. Everything that she had been feeling and thinking since the crash was about to come out. Richard stared at her and she stared back, both of them trying to read the other's faces. Finally, the psychic leaned back and gave her a quizzical look, "So, what do you want me to tell you?"

Claire bit her lip. Anger and emotion welled up in her. His confidence inspiring smile, his nonchalant attitude; how could he be like this after all she had suffered? She cocked her head and said, "What do I want you to tell me? I want you to tell me that you didn't know that plane was going to crash. I want you to tell me that there really was a couple in Los Angeles waiting to take my baby. And I want you to tell me why I should believe anything that you tell me!" She finished, the anger in her voice apparent.

Malkin stared at her; examined her. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes alight, and her breath came in short spurts. Resentment and confusion poured from her and he soaked it in, thinking about his answer. Should he tell her about his vision? Should he tell her that it was all for her own good? Deciding to avoid the question altogether, he said, "How's Aaron?"

Claire wasn't even taken aback by the fact that he knew her baby's name. She looked over at his living room where Aaron was sleeping on a couch. She stared at Richard angrily, "Don't avoid my question."

He sighed, "I'm going to tell you what really happened, but you have to promise me that you won't interrupt until I finish." Claire nodded and he went on, "I…did know about the plane. I got the vision two days before the plane took off." Claire's eyes did not flare up in anger, but relief; she was finally getting answers.

Richard continued on, "You need to know that I did this for your and Aaron's own good. If you only knew what I saw…I didn't know how I could convince you that you had to raise this baby."

They both looked over at Aaron who had a smile on his face, even in his sleep. Claire looked at the napping boy and wondered how she could have ever thought of giving him up. She never thought that she would be glad that he had sent her on that plane. But now, looking at Aaron, she couldn't be happier for the four years that she had had with him.

She smiled at the grin on his face, "I wonder what he's dreaming about."

"Climbing a coconut tree, and Vincent; he misses him," Malkin said absentmindedly. Then, seeing the astonished look on Claire's face he added, "Sorry. I do that sometimes."

For the first time in a while, she laughed, "It's okay. I was planning on getting him a puppy when we got settled down…" Her voice trailed off, thinking about where she was going to go from here. She had always wished that she and Charlie would settle down, raise Aaron, but after the airport, she wasn't so sure. Looking up at Richard Malkin, she tried to read him. She realized that he was reading her too.

Noticing that he wasn't going to say anything else, she stood up awkwardly. He stood up also, and put his hand on her arm, "Stay here for a couple more minutes."

She sat back down, and asked, "Why?"

The psychic smiled, "You'll see."

They sat there for a couple minutes, and Claire looked around the room uneasily, not sure of what to do or say. She was about to get up again when Richard Malkin stood up. He walked to the window without a word and peered out the blinds. Then, he sighed, "Right on time." Claire cocked her head, and tried to look at who was walking up to the door.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Malkin walked over to Claire, "I think that you should get that."

She looked at him skeptically, but walked towards the door. Turning the handle, she opened it. Standing there was Charlie Pace. She threw herself at him, hugging him with tears in her eyes, "Charlie."

By then, Aaron had woken up. He ran over and embraced Charlie around his waist shouting happily, "You're here! You're here!"

Charlie and Claire locked eyes, and Charlie said, "I'm here." For that moment, there was nothing but them, and the couple embraced as Richard Malkin stood across the room, a secret smile on his face, finally feeling redeemed.

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A/N: Sorry, that it took so long to make this one. I've been battling writers block.


	5. Chapter 5: Changes

**AN: Hey, I know it's been a while since I posted, and a whole new season has come out, but I'm going to continue with the characters and storylines that I had before Season 2. I hope you like the new one!**

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Hurley and his mother ran into her home and slammed the door behind them, shutting the reporters that had been following them out. He caught his breath as his mother stared at him. "Ma, you've been staring at me the whole plane ride home. What's wrong?"

"I still can't believe that you're home." She hugged him again, and he patted her on the back calmly. She backed away happily, "Hugo! You've lost weight."

"Ah mom, the island didn't exactly have a gourmet restaurant…a hatch, but no gourmet restaurant." He laughed, while his mom just stared at him, not understanding. He just shook his head, "I'll tell you everything later. Right now, I need some sleep."

She nodded understandingly, and led him upstairs to a large bedroom. He smiled at her as she closed the door, saying, "I'll make you some coffee for when you wake up." As the door clicked behind him, he sat down on the maroon bedspread and picked up the sleek cordless phone.

"Who would you like to call?" The automated voice on the phone asked politely. Hurley held it out from his ear, a shocked look on his face.

He held it up to his ear again and stuttered, "I-I think I'll just dial it...I-if that's okay."

"I'm sorry; were we unable to find that in our directory. Please repeat yourself."

Hurley looked at the phone, feeling more lost than on the island. He said skeptically, "My accountant?"

"Your call to 'Accountant' is being placed; please hold on." Hurley rolled his eyes as the pleasant voice on the other end of the phone connected him to his accountant.

After three rings, a voice on the other end of the phone barked, "I'm not giving an interview! My clients' personal lives are kept strictly confidential. So, just leave me alone!"

Hurley held the phone slightly off his head, cringing slightly at the harsh voice in his ear. "Whoa man, calm down it's Hurley," he said while silently wondering why his accountant still didn't have caller I.D.

"Hurley! So great to hear from you." There was a long pause on the other end of the phone as his accountant shuffled some papers.

Hurley smiled, glad to hear a familiar voice, "Yea. Sorry I didn't call before, but the island didn't get much reception. A couple radio stations…"

The comment flew over his accountant's head and he responded warily, "So, what is it you're calling about?"

Hurley shuffled from his right foot to his left; he always dreaded the money talk. "Umm…well, I hate to bring it up, but I left the country with 156 million dollars."

A stiff silence followed his statement and Hurley was just opening his mouth to speak again when his accountant, "Hurley. You were on the island for four years. What…with the economy the way it is today."

"You know I don't need the economics lesson Jerry."

He could hear his accountant smiling on the other end of the phone, "The island hasn't changed you."

Hurley smiled, "The only currency on the island was medication and shampoo from the hatch." Then, he continued on before his accountant could question his reference to the island, "What's the damage?"

"Well, Hurley. You're mom had to use some of it. You know, living expenses and all that."

"I know Jerry. Just tell me what I have left." There was a moment of silence on the other line, "Jerry?"

Jerry coughed; "Well, Hurley, it's roughly 54 million dollars."

Hurley was taken aback at this figure. He hadn't heard a dollar amount that large since he left for Sydney. "I lost 54 million dollars?"

His accountant chuckled, "You gained 54 million dollars!"

Hurley froze, the slim phone almost slipping out of his hand. "Wait, dude. So you're saying that I'm worth 210 million dollars?"

"No need to thank me. I look out for my clients no matter where they are. An island, Sydney, wherever. I'm still working for you."

Hurley smiled. His accountant hadn't changed a bit. Thinking about the 200 million dollars, he realized what he had to do. Holding the phone up, he said, "Look, Jerry, I need you to do something for me."


End file.
